


Journey of a Fox From Far Away

by AsheeChaos



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1880s, Ghosts, Kitsune
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 15,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheeChaos/pseuds/AsheeChaos
Summary: A special fox has travelled all the way to Britain ~1880. Not from his point of view.





	1. Chapter 1

-*Matia's POV*-

It was playtime!

Playtiiiiime!

I run out with my ball.

Clothes can get dirty and all! I can play all I wanted!

And there was a squirrel in the tree!

“Heeey, come down to play!”, I wave at it. It stops, but then runs to the tree again.

Didn’t want to play.

Ah, but I can look if there was one of the black crawly shinies where they usually are.

Sitting all on the treestump, crawling about slowly.

And right I was!

I hold one in my hand, and they dig into it. They are very strong!

And very shiny.

Their faces can dig. It’s very, very cool. And they chirp!

Mom said I can’t keep them, they like it better outside.

So I let them sit. And poke them.

Then have two eyelashes on a long eyelash.

They look funny.

And sometimes throw other ones over. And then they wriggle their legs in the air. And pinch really hard when you put the fingers there. All the time.

So wriggly!

When I look up, I see yellow eyes.

And grey-black fur around them! And they were close!

“You’re fluffy!”, I say, because it does look very, very fluffy.

And its eyes go wide, and then it closes them. Like a kitten. Slowly! And then looks again!

Mommy said kittens do that when they like you.

So it LIKED ME!

I walk over to it. Aaand it lays its ears flat and growls.

Oh. Bad thing.

I lay on the ground, then. All flat. Not dangerous me.

All nice!

I look in my pockets and… I got a sausage in there! So I hold it to the fluffy.

“There, that tastes good!”

It blinks at me again.

And then comes a little bit closer, sniffing.

It looks like a fox. But someone painted it wrong.

It was nice and took the sausage from my hand.

Careful.

Then it laid down and started chewing, blinking again.

Very calm little kitten-dog-fox!

And I wait. Until it has eated.

Then it looks at me again.

“Gooood fox-kitten doooog”, it blinks at me, making a noise. Sounds unhappy.

Eh. I still belly crawl to it. And pet it.

It leans it’s head to my hand.

It’s VERY VERY soft.

Softer than mom’s coats. These are very soft.

It’s also very warm. And closes it’s eyes.

I crawl closer. I crawl closer and pet it. It’s whole body. A lot. It’s really VERY VERY soft.

The tail is softer.

It made happier noises now, too.

It likes ear-scritches. And moves against me. And around me.

It’s a nice fox-kitten-dog.

And I pet it until mom calls.

“MATIA? I said stay in SIGHT!”, I stood up and waved.

“I’m heeere!”, I WAS in sight! I saw her! “I found a friend!”

Mom sounded a bit concerned when she said: “… who’s your new friend?”

“I’ll show you! C’mere!”, I look at the lil’ animal and roll it on his back, rubbing its belly.

It pulled its front paws up and lolled it’s tongue out.

Many happy noises coming from it.

When mom arrives behind me, she says: “Well, whom do you have h-“

Then she stops saying things and I look up to her. She frowns.

“What is it, mommy? The kitten-fox-dog is reaaaally soft!”, I rub it’s belly some more.

Then it rolls to the side, looking up at us.

“Can I keep iiiiit?”, I look up at her. Mommy doesn’t look happy.

“Pleaaase?”, the kifodo looks up at her, too. With big eyes.

“A… fox is a wild animal, Matia”, she does not like she wants to have it.

“Please, mommyyyy?”

The… uh… fox whines, too.

She frowns more.

“… if… if you lock up all the chickens and pigeons and everything, it can stay outside… for the night… we’ll see later. It needs to be safe for everyone”, she still frowned.

And I hugged her legs: “Thank you mommyyy!”

The fox wagged it’s tail.


	2. Chapter 2

-*Gabrielle's POV*-

The fox… was a nuisance.

It… was a wild animal, but it sure didn’t behave like one around Matia.

When I came close, it evaded me or went out of the way, but with Matia, it just curled up and… stayed there.

And got pet.

There were moments when I was concerned, since… I didn’t think a fox wold react well to his ears being pulled. But the only thing it did was twitching back and growl lightly.

The stroking of ears didn’t look much more comfortable, but… it endured. It didn’t do much. Just let itself be pet.

And actually led Matia to the porch when playtime was over.

…

No animals were hurt by it, nothing was destroyed.

And, in the instance that Matia had it in her small, grubby hands and held the fox up to me to pet it, I got to experience really soft fur.

Really, for an animal that’s outside all the time and didn’t wash its fur, this was kind of inexplicable.

But there it was, begrudgingly letting me pet it.

Maybe it had its upside. It was a play mate for Matia, seeing we were still some kind of outcast family. It was no human, but the fox was clever and certainly kept her occupied.

It was no big surprise when my dear daughter finally asked: “Mummyyyy, can he sleep insiiiide with meeee?!”

“So it’s a boy-fox now”, I said, because… I… had tried to figure, but the creature is VERY fluffy and rarely seen from behind.

“Ye, he told me!”, which made me frown. My daughter thought the fox spoke.

“So, can heee?”, the question apparently stuck.

“No, Matia, he’s still a wild animal”, I patted her head, “He is better off outside”

“Awwww”, she looked distraught.

But there were limits. It was a fox. A black-silver fox, too. It didn’t belong into a house.

When I found it snoozing on Matia’s bedroll in the morning, I chased it out. Much to her disappointment. Tearful disappointment.

And apparently, the fox took a slightly different approach now. He… walked around my legs, rubbing its head against my legs. It was nice. And made sure I didn’t fall over it. Which… nice, admittedly.

It even laid down next to ME when I was outside and Matia otherwise occupied.

And it was fluffy enough to attract my hand, especially when it put it’s head under my hand and made a strange rumbly noise.

I COULD pet it while reading the news.

…

After a week, the animal just walked in with Matia. And after two weeks, I gave up on putting him out again. He found a way back in anyway.

And hey. At least he managed to actually get Matia to get up at a reasonable hour. Without much complaining.

When it sat on the windowsill while we had breakfast and stole a sausage, I pointed at it: “I should charge you rent, you know?”

With a huff, I still let it be.

It would be a long day. And I had to go to the market. Also to get more sausages.


	3. Chapter 3

The market was busy. And I had dressed down to avoid any kind of recognition. Sometimes, people were against the ‘shunned’ woman owning half the town.

I sighed.

People could be very… mean. It was the reason why Matia still didn’t come with me to the market. It was nice enough with the foreign traders.

We exchanged greetings and haggled for the best price of tomatoes. I brought a pumpkin with me as well, pumpkin soup was always a welcome change to the usual stew.

There were some new fabrics displayed as well. It’s been some time since the last shipment, so I picked a few. Matia was constantly growing, I needed to stay on top of that.

I handed the purchases over to one of my servants while I walked down to the book-cart. They had a few more barrels there for purchase. I greeted the owner and he asked me if Matia finally got around to reading. I told him she still has a greater appreciation for the pictures.

He laughed and pointed to the newest shipment: “This gentleman has already shown interest, but maybe you both can come to an arrangement?”

“What, my good sir, you wish to purchase all seven barrels?”, I raised my brow.

The man un-draped himself from the barrel. (It was the best way to describe it, he had made this barrel his own and now… disentangled himself from the very simple shape. It was a bit strange to witness, maybe it was his coat) And took his nose out of the book he was holding. ‘Remedies for all occasions’. Well. Why not.

He blinked owlishly. And for a moment, the yellow eyes made me pause. I couldn’t place my finger on it, though. Must have been a trick of the light anyway. Light brown eyes sometimes lookd yellow.

“That was indeed the plan, my good lady. I don’t come by books that often”

Hrm. He looked somewhat… wild. The coat was long and looked warm, but also… wild. It was not tailored for him. His hair was long, but well-kept, silver streaks in there. There were wrinkles around his eyes. And he wore a hat. A furred one as well. There was a lot of hair on that man. Also on his muddy boots: “So? Then you can not be a frequent visitor. Alexander here brings us a shipment every month”, not always but that was the plan.

“Too true, it is a shame. It’s always quite a way, and it’s lonely, the books are much needed company”, he stroked the back of the book.

“Ah, I suppose the transport is quite costly, then. Market fees for taking books out the town again,” it was easily a good reason to possibly not take everything. The price almost doubled, with amounts like that.

“It’s true. Not that the cost is a problem… it’s just a shame to take all of them with me just to bring the back the next day, lots of work for nothing,” he shrugged.

“… why don’t you just sort them here?”, because really, that was the best course of action.

“Ah, I was not lucky enough to catch a room at the market day, I am forced to leave this very day. You know how it is”, he smiled and shrugged.

Of course I knew how it is, market right forbid him from screening the books in market places. Or, of course, alleyways, so I frowned: “So… you merely would need a room to sort and might be willing to part with some of the books?”, I frowned. It was not the first time this had been a problem.

“Private rooms to unpack an re-arrange the product, yes. But like I said, it’s the big market. The rooms are stuffed”, he sighed.

And I frowned. He was an… eccentric fellow. But… well…

“Mh… I do have a free room. I don’t usually offer it. And it’s about an hour from here. I… might be willing to arrange transportations”, and would be glad to take any doubles from him, certainly.

“I see… I… am not that interested in travelling home this night, either”, He frowned and then shrugged, “How much?”

I thought about it for a minute. He looked a little tired. And it was around four. A travelhome would mean he would need to travel at night which meant an easy target in the middle of the woods.

“Five pounds a night, with breakfast”, which was basically theft. Three barrels were worth that much.

Even Alex looked offended.

“Fine with me”, the man shrugged and handed fifteen bucks to Alex and five to me, “I suppose you could arrange for transport as well?”

Which was… surprising. But… well. It was only one night. And I would get a good deal of books out of it. I supposed.

“I can drive with you?”, he smiled at me. Rich person.

“… yes, I suppose”, I was still a little perplexed.

“I shall gather a few supplies, still. The barrels should be put on your carriage… I suppose we can meet here at five?”, he still smiled.

“… yes, until then”, I had a few things to buy as well.

Huh.

Well, at least I wouldn’t have a loss today.


	4. Chapter 4

The barrels got rolled onto the carriage.

I watched the progress. My other purchases got added one after the other. I only had the chance once a month.

But this time… I brought a stranger with me.

Mh.

For the hundredth time in the last hour, I put my hair back behind my ear, the weather wasn’t pleasant. Windy.

I… still was not sure if it was a good idea to bring the guy.

A man flaunting money like this had some kind of problem. I was not sure which, but he definitely was not… normal.

Then again, he apparently lived somewhere in the woods with only books as company. If that isn’t painting a sad picture, I didn’t know what.

So… maybe the lack of human contact was the only reason. One had to believe in being lucky.

Anyways, it would be unkind to leave him here in the storm.

When he appears from the crowd an hour later, a basket full of meat and sausages in hand, I was a bit concerned. But well…

“I assume there are dogs waiting?”, if he lived out in the wilderness, it was a definite possibility.

He blinked at me, then looked down at his arm and chuckled: “Well, you are not wrong. Sausages make for excellent breakfast, too, though”, he smiled wide, “It’s most delicious when fresh from the market”, he looked like it was Christmas.

“… I guess that can be arranged”, I had to make sure the fox didn’t steal half of them this time.

“Very nice, are we done?”, when I nodded, the man squirreled into the carriage.

And nestled himself in the corner.

He looked very comfortable. And pleased with himself. And held the basket on his lap.

“… you don’t get out often, do you?”, I couldn’t help but ask. The only thing missing would be him actually pulling his dirty boots up as well. Which he thankfully did not do. He simply… nestled. And looked like he would snooze in five seconds time.

Which might not be good, it was a bumpy ride.

“… mh? Oh… well… no, I… do keep to myself”, I wondered how he could look so comfortable in a hard corner of a very… drafty carriage.

“Really now. It seems to pay well”, I assumed he wouldn’t tell anyone about my ignorance of manners here.

“Oh? Well… one of my ancestors got paid well, actually. I’m reaping the benefits…”, he smiled. Not ashamed in the slightest. Well. It wasn’t like I was any different…

“… the last of your line, I suppose?”, if there was more than one person in the area, that uncaring with money, I would at least have heard of the successful bandit raid.

“Ah, yes, appears to be the case. Hence the loneliness. Incidentally, I’m glad for the company – and your offer -, however short my stay may be”, he nodded.

That seemed… sensible enough. And I did see his point. Even with Matia and the servants, it did sometimes get… lonely.

“Well, we certainly will need to sort the books. That will take quite a bit of time”, maybe even longer than a day. It was a good three hundred, if I estimated right. 

“We will see, we will see”, he sunk even deeper into the furs.

And our ride only just started, with a whiplash and a jolt of the carriage.

Apparently, small talk was not on his mind today.

“What brought you here on this very day? I mean… since it’s so rare that you come out of the woods?”, I was here every month – if not week.

“Ah… the weather was right. I had a craving, I remembered it was market for once… a mix of reasons. And it was a success, as you can see, maybe I’ll do it more often now”, the smile looked indeed very pleased.

“So cold autumn winds are the best days to go out?”, I smiled back

He indicated his coat and said: “It’s the best time to be fashionable, at the very least”

Well. I could give him that.

“It’s a very cozy coat… wouldn’t want to be seen with anything else”, well, he certainly didn’t get out often…

“It suits you, definitely”, as eccentric as its owner. But at least not a malicious one.

“Thank you. It… seems like you don’t feel too comfortable in yours… ah well”, he shrugged… and… I wouldn’t mention his manners to anyone either, apparently.

“… that… might be the weather. Autumn storms aren’t pleasant for everyone”, and it was a drafty carriage. The winds had picked up in the last hour, after all.

“Oh… are you cold, then?”, he blinked, looking out his nest and moved about a little. One minute later, he has re-settled and held out a coat, “Take that, then”

I stared: “… did… did you wear two coats?”

“Well, yes, it seemed practical?”, he smiled again. And nested in his remaining coat. Still looked comfortable.

“… thank you…”, I blinked and put it around my shoulders.

It was still warm. And I somewhat disappeared in it. It was – predictably – too big.

But comfortable. And very fluffy.

… smelled earthy.

Huh.

“It’s very nice”, to which he smiled a slow, lazy smile.

…

Since no one else was there, I nestled in my own corner and might have closed my eyes. Just for a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

A jerk of the carriage made me twitch as well.

I… might have slept in, after all.

It was a very warm and comfortable coat. I stayed cuddled up in it for a little longer.

Meanwhile, I heard rustling from the other side of the carriage… and then felt a hand on my face, bapping against my cheek. Gently.

Seriously, he just… moved his fingertips against my face.

“We’re there, we should get out, Miss”, in this moment, I realized that I didn’t even know his name. And I never introduced myself.

…

Maybe he was not the only one that didn’t get out enough.

…

He still dabbed my face. At least he had changed the place.

I waved his hand away: “I heard you… your coat is very nice”, I said, getting up and just… pulling it a little closer.

Maybe I was a little dazed from just having woken. Did I really sleep the whole way through? Mh.

“Thank you, I should still not be the first to leave the carriage”, he held the door open for me.

I didn’t exactly see why, but… alright?

When I stepped outside, there was an armful of Matia jumping at me.

“Mommy! Mommyyy! The fox is gone! I can’t find it anywheeeere!”, she was distraught, sniffled, even.

I picked her up and held her: “Aw, I am very sorry, love… I’m sure it will come back, it’s a wild animal, you know that”, I tapped her nose.

It didn’t really help, she just continued sobbing a little and curled into my shoulder.

I just hugged her for a while. And went to the front porch to sit down.

Poor lovely. She really got used to the little fox.

Hugs usually helped, so that would be what would happen now, for some time.

My guest came out a little later and I watched him talk and wave at the servants. Then he walked over to me: “They say the library is in the first floor, can I help them?”

I rocked Matia a little bit and whispered that it’ll be fiiine, then turned to the man: “Well, if you listen to them, of course”

Matia tensed up, though, whispered: “Who’s this, mommy?”, in that child-whisper that can be heard through the whole house.

And of course he heard it, and offered with a wry smile: “I, young lady of the house, am Mazin Ruthven, at your service”, and bowed deeply.

My daughter tensed a little more, but then turned a tiny bit, so she could see, from the corner of her eyes.

‘Mazin’ looked up from under his hat as well.

“Oh?”, she said in awe, and shuffled a little more.

When he noticed he got more attention, he went to his knees, like a knight, bowing his head further.

And Matia reached out, patting his head – with hat: “…soft”

So he looked up a little: “Soo… am I allowed in your court, young lady?”

The young lady looked very contemplative for a moment, then: “… yes, for now”

“Ah, that will have to do, then. I thank the ladies for their patience, I will join you later”, he lifted his hat… and placed it on Matia’s. She was… at least distracted. And fingered the hat.

“Where’re you goin’?”, she said when she noticed him leaving.

“I bring books in the library, so we can look through them”, he smiled, smothering his hair.

Matia didn’t seem to look happy, but he laughed: “Dooon’t worry, there are lots of pictures in them, too, you can come check later!”, he winked and turned away.

Matia was at least somewhat placated.

Ah…

Well…

Mister Ruthven still didn’t know my name, but I knew his… and he apparently carried a barrel on his own. With a few problems, but he did.

And was joking around with the servants.

I really didn’t know what to think of this man.


	6. Chapter 6

After the novelty value of the hat wore off, my little turtle dove grew concerned again.

“Mummy, foxy’s still gone…”

And tears threatened to form again.

I was fighting a losing battle.

„Alright, we’ll look for Fluffy. But I’m sure he is just in the woods, visiting family”, it’s a fox! It was a miracle it stayed as long as it did.

But Matia nodded. And grabbed my hand, dragging me off into the wild.

“You know where everything goes! I’ll be back later!”, I yelled at the servants. They did know everything, I simply didn’t want to leave them without at least a warning.

The next half hor was spend with Matia telling me about all the places she had interacted with the fox.

“Here I met him the very first time!”, she pointed at the tree stump of the old oak we had to get rid of two years ago. Well. Alright.

“He had all biiiig yellow eyes and looked at me, but then he growled and I went to the floor, but then it got really nice and ate my beef jerky and let me pet it and then it followed me home”, because that is something that was not dangerous at all…

I wanted to scold her, but… I should have paid better attention, too.

She was always a very lucky child, I maybe got a little careless. The thing was: With Fluffles around, the animals actually kept a distance. He was, in that sense, a good protector.

But now he was gone. And she told me how he can jump really high, on this branch!

And since this branch was at eye level, I admitted that yes, it was impressive.

Going further, she got me to sunny places, where the fox would lay down on her belly to catch some sun. It was very warm itself, she says.

I wouldn’t say as much but I could agree: It was very warm and especially in cold evenings very nice to have on your lap, all rolled up.

“You know, it probably just visits family. Or friends, its friends usually keep away otherwise, don’t they?”, I asked.

Matia nodded: “Mmmhm, he shoos them all away, too!”, which… I’m not sure where that definition of friends came from, but alright.

And then we walked through the forest… and calling Fluffy.

I doubted the effectiveness of the whole thing. A little. But after an hour, I picked her up: “Luv, I think wherever he went… he’ll get dinner now. Maybe he’s at our place stealing a sausage right now?”

For a few moments, Matia was once again in deep thought. Then she made a deciding nod: “Lets look!”, and then decided to not leave my arms. I got her to relocate on my shoulders, at least.

…

She was lucky she was still so light.

When we reached home, even I felt a slight twinge when the fox was not waiting for us on the windowsill. Not that I could show Matia that.

“… well, if we make some delicious cookies, maybe he will come back earlier?”, because she once again looked as if the world was a bleak place with no joy.

The joy came back at the mention of cookies. She… still was a child.

While Matia prepared the kitchen for the ultimate cookie-experience, I looked for our guest. It turned out he was alright. I found him rolling dice with my servants. With a raised brow, I asked: “So I see you… settled in?”

“Yes, well, the gentlemen introduced me to the Jibril household and invited me for a round… thank you for your concern, my lady”

Well then. He had enough money to spare, it would not be too bad. Very well.


	7. Chapter 7

When I came back, there were two worrying facts:

The first was one I was used to and could possibly deal with: Matia had already finished preparing the bowls and mixing gadgets, also heated the oven and now had reached for edible ingredients. I still was not sure how she managed to ruin everything she touched, but… well… a bit of flour was on fire. So, I went to put that out first. She could happily try measuring it for now.

The second worrying fact was a crow, sitting on the windowsill. And looking into the room with intelligent eyes. So, right after the fire was out, I grabbed a broom and tried to push the black critter down. It… sidestepped with a “CAW”, and I had to make several attempts until I finally got rid of the feathery a-… bird.

Self-censoring in my mind meant I had been a mother since some time, I supposed.

Censoring or not, I closed the window.

They are still very… mischievous birds.

A second later, it was back, pecking on the window.

Good lord. They are usualy scared of the noise, so I returned to Matia.

She… distributed flour in equal measures in the whole kitchen. It was everywhere.

I congratulated her to a job well done. And made her stand on the stool so she could watch me stir the batter. And taste after every single piece of ingredient.

The butter-flour-mix was surprisingly well appreciated.

For reasons of safety, I left the eggs out as long as possible, and then sent Matia for the fire. She can’t taste everything.

But she was simply adorable, powdered in white all over.

Even if she was stoking the fire a little too close to the oven for my own comfort.

“Is it gooood?”, she asked, as the ritual commanded, presenting the glimmering coals to me.

I walked over, patted her head and nodded gravely: “Yes, you are a good fire keeper”

She smiled widely and continued looking at the flames.

And I could knead everything properly, not getting interrupted every two minutes. Butter, milk, flour, cocoa, eggs… it wasn’t much more than that. And when I rolled the dough out, I could get Matia to cut the cookies out with me.

It almost changed to sadness again when she cut out a fox…-alike shape.

“Fluffles can eat it when he comes back!”, I offered, and Matia agreed to that happily.

… I hoped foxes could eat cookies without getting sick.

Anyway, in the end, there were cookies.

And after 15 minutes sitting in front of the oven and watching the dough become solid, we could take them out and marvel at the deliciousness.

Keeping Matia away from touching them was harder than expected.

…and unsuccessful.

In the end, she still burned her tongue.

She was brave about it, though. Just sniffling and telling me nothing happened.

I patted her head.

She was too sweet for her own good.

And, soon enough, ran off with the first batch to give them to the servants, no doubt with the proudest of expressions.

When the second batch was ready, she came storming back in: “I made a NEW FRIEND!”, she gleamed.

I… she was adorable and I HAD to pick her up and hug her, kissing her forehead: “That’s great, turtle dove!”, and snuggled her.

Then I looked down.

And a very disoriented-looking raccoon came sniffing into the kitchen.

Then looked up to me. Sat down on its hind legs. And clapped it’s hands at me. With something that could be described a hopeful expression.

My daughter jumped out of my arms, grabbed a cookie and handed it to it.

I still stared. What was it with the animals recently?!

When I finally got out of the shock, I grabbed my broom and swept the round-ish animal out of our kitchen.

It put its cookie in its snout and ran. In a very tippy-tapping way.

It went straight to the front door, to the right, and under a bench where I could not reach it with my broom. It didn’t care much when I hit the bench with the broom, just somewhat curled up on itself and held it’s ears closed.

And in that moment Matia reached my skirt to pull on it: “Mummyyyy, it’s my friend!”

I sighed and hung my weight on the broom: “It’s a wild animal, Matia, it just wants your food”

“And I have food for it”

“But it’s bad for the raccoon, Matia, it’s not supposed to eat cookies. It will get all round and won’t be able to run away anymore”

“But it’s my friend!”

… and thus, circular logic once again got me.

I ruffled her hair: “Well… it… can stay on the grounds, for now, but it can’t sleep inside. You know that. It’s all dirty”

Fluffles wasn’t. I had checked. It was a bit of a miracle, but… yeah, he wasn’t.

I sighed, picking her up again: “You can give it a broccoli, okay? It will like that! And it’s good for it”

“Mkaaaay”, she nodded.

I loved my little girl.

At least that way she didn’t eat too many cookies before dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

The little girl fed me with broccoli. As promised. It was delicious broccoli.

The cookies were better by miles, but… the… mother, I supposed, did have a point. I could not make this body suffer unseemly.

So, I crunched. There were giggles from the little girl, so I supposed we were equally well entertained by broccoli.

I couldn’t help but sniff around after the vegetable was gone. I knew perfectly well there was none except for the ones in the child’s – an adorable child’s – hands, but instinct are strong. Just like brushing the vegetable before eating it.

Seriously, it was washed, rubbing my grubby paws – which I walk on – over them was not going to make it cleaner. I had absolutely no choice, though… and so I ate slightly dirty greens. Good for your bowels, right?

After her hands were empty and her mother scowled over at me with a bit of a scowl, I made a chittering noise, cleaned my snout – to little ‘Matia’s delight - and then ducked out of the room, following the intense aura that lead me here in the first place.

Thankfully, the drain pipes were climbable.

It was still utterly weird to me to sniff at something and actually get a lot of information about it. What it’s made f, if there was… food… inside. Which meant insects, which meant… never… mind.

I climbed up there to find a room with books. They… they had a library. This house has a library!

Or… at least a of of books. It smelled of books all over. I was sorely tempted to jump in and look at them.

But… the aura wasn’t here. Had been. Wasn’t anymore. So I climbed around some more until I saw a green glow from inside the room. And jumped in. With a strangely deflating noise, I landed on the floor and – again – snuffled around.

Until I got old of myself and looked up, concentrated to focus. And there was a grey-haired man, sitting on the floor, reclining on his outstretched arms.

You could not actually miss the ghostly fox that actually made up this human. It was bright and disrupted the whole spiritual world around it. It wasn’t distorting anything, but it could.

It was now just… sitting there… and looking at me with lazily narrowed eyes… two pairs, even: “Well, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the castle, big guy? You know you’re kid of shitty at fending for yourself, Enoch-y”


	9. Chapter 9

I stared at him, waving his seven tails and curling them around his body to resemble a dignified, honest, powerful being.

He succeed in an admirable fashion. Until he opened it’s mouth to yawn… and flomped to the side: “Stop staring ad tell me what you want, you old piece of work”, he huffed.

That was… not friendly.

“You were gone for a month. I mean, you are a free spirit and everything, but a month. You just left without saying a word and… were gone!”, I said and frowned at him.

“I go all the time”, the fox shrugged. At least he had the decency to look me in the eyes, grudgingly.

“Yes, but not for a month and you don’t have anyone who needs you guidance around you, usually”

He rolled around: “Dude… you’re 5000 years old. Sure, I gave you a lil guidance. But you’re a smart dude, you can do it. If you don’t make a round raccoon at the time”

I looked away, accused. I said: “That was one time. Ad I have you know I trained it off before I let the poor animal go”

“It probably liked it”, the fox snickered.

And I stiffened: “Why do you have to say this in such a way?”

“Because you’re uptight and a nuisance. You read books all day and I just get bored. Besides, I have a few things to do as well. Some people maintain their spiritual form properly. You just… kinda suck at being a ghost”, said the fox. All disgruntled.

“That… is not a reason why you formulate strange sentences”, I replied.

“I know. I knooow it isn’t, but you asked the other thing, too. And you’re doing semantics agaaain”, he said. And rolled around a little more.

“Well, it was wrong”, and that was the truth.

“You are a nice person. But you seriously couldn’t talk to people for too long”

“That’s the twenty third time you told me that”, I huffed.

“… I needed a break from that, too. But alright. You got a raccoon. How did you get here, though? Crow? Falcon? …tit?”, he snickered again, foxly. It was a weird, squeezy sound.

“Crow. And I would like you to not make light of my situation”

“Fivethousand years. And I leave you alone for a month and you come after me. I mean… dude”

“… you are trying to make me react rashly”

“I sure as hell wasn’t hiding that. And hey, look at you, eating cookies, Mr crumb-monster. That IS acting rashly, by the way. You do remember your ball-form…?”, he… fox-laughed.

And I flomped my raccoon-body on the floor, saying: “There. Fine. I’m informal. You’re still here. It annoys… ‘the crap’ out of me and I still don’t know what ‘great things’ you wanted to teach me… before you got annoyed with me actually wanting to learn”, my tail was tapping the floor.

“Meh, not feeling it now, either. There will be dinner. And I can talk to the lucky child. And to her mother. It’s great!”, he smiled.

I had no damn clue what he was talking about. Except for the dinner part, of course. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here: “… their cookies are good”

“Ugh”, the foxes’ ears lay float, “Not-meat”

“You could be friendlier”, I frowned.

“Sure. I could also not. I’ll be friendly enough. You just… don’t talk to me when there is dinner. Best don’t show up, non-pet animals aren’t allowed at a dinner table”, he rolled back on his feet.

“We’ll see about that”, I did see chances.

“Mhhhnnnnn…”, how the foxes’ face managed to be more expressive than the human counterpart was anyone’s guess…

“MISTER RUTHVEN?! YOU COMING FOR DINNER?”, the little girl seemed to call.

There it was! We would see now!


	10. Chapter 10

He came down soon enough, looking like he came fresh from the tailor. Which was… odd. Considering he only travelled with a light bag. But he made a more decent impression, now. The grey fit to the streaks in his hair. Made him seem slightly more put together.

That was… something.

“Thanks for calling me down, young lady”, he smiled at her. And waved.

Matia still was not completely okay with him, though, running to the side and away. It was proof that we did not have many guests. I ruffled her hair, while she grabbed my skirt and said: “It’s okay, Matia, he is friendly, he can eat with us”

She looked up to me with big eyes, clearly not convinced: “… really?”

I nodded: “Really, really”

She frowned and looked down before nodding, apparently determined: “Okay”

And sat down at the table, staring at Mr Ruthven, she said resolutely: “Welcome to dinner, Mr Ruthven”

He smiled, a little lopsidedly, and bowed, actually with proper form: “I am most grateful”

“Please, sit, she is… simply a little shy”, I said, slightly apologetic.

He laughed: “It’s no trouble at all, madame. A little suspicion is healthy, truly. I’m all the more honoured to be invited”, he smiled at Matia’s still tight face. The man looked younger when he smiled. And as if he did it a lot.

“… ah. I just realised. We never introduced ourselves. This is Matia and I am Gabrielle Jibril”, it had been time.

He blinked for a moment, then chuckled: “Ah, yes, of course. Very well! Miss Jibril, Miss Jibril junior, thanks for having me, it smells quite… edible in here”

I took a quick sniff and… well… it smelled of cookies and meat. It was a bit of an odd mixture.

“… it does”, I smiled, getting the plates of potatoes and vegetables.

As usual, Matia did not look especially happy.

He had seated himself, and looked around, taking the plates from me to put them on the table.

“Well, what do you want, young lady?”, he smirked, apparently aware of her obvious dislike.

“Mmmmnnngh”, this was definitely not a happy noise.

“I understand. Veggies aren’t my favourite either”, he wrinkled his nose, I saw when I looked back. Well, that might give him points… but honestly? Not right.

“But your mom will be sad if we don’t eat it, so… since I’m bigger than you… I eat six and you three pieces of brokkoli?”, he looked on the plate and picked a piece with a fork.

Matia did not look convinced.

“Hah, got the smallest… only five to go”, and concentrated on the plate.

I… had never seen Matia get her vegetables that fast. Looked smug, too. Afterwards. Over getting vegetables.

My days are just full of surprises.

Our guest looked appropriately miffed, too, picking at his own ‘catch’.

“One or two taters”

“Two”, the smugness radiated off of her. And he handed them over. Took two himself.

And I came back with the sausages. Those were eagerly taken out of my hands.

… for the day, I would… treat myself to one as well. We could afford it, with the fee I got from our guest. Just today.

“You look worried, miss Jibril, everything alright?”, he hadn’t touched the food yet.

I smiled, waving off the question: “No, no, all is well, just a little tired”

“Ah, I can imagine. Long day”, he nodded, “I suppose we will look through the books tomorrow”

That… had not even been a question, really: “Ah, yes, much obliged”, I said anyway.

He nodded and said: “Itadakimasu!”

Matia and I both blinked, and stared at him: “… what?”

“Err… thanks for the food!”, he laughed again, a little awkward. And then looked down, “Oh”

We followed his gaze.

… the raccoon was back. The gray of its fur and his clothes fit well. Weird.

It… clasped its hands in the air again.

“Err… I… is that… is that the house’s raccoon?”, he pointed at it and looked back and forth between me and the raccoon.

“COONY!”, Matia exclaimed. And held a broccoli-piece out for the critter, under the table.

It hobbled over immediately, grabbing it with its tiny hands.

“Then…?”

I sighed, taking a breath for an answer, when Matia said: “He’s friendly, he can eat with us!”

And our guest stifled a laugh: “Heh… I… ah… fair enough”

That apparently was the end of it. Our furry guest got all the vegetables.

Even two pieces from me, when the others finally realised they had to eat.

It was a different kind of dinner, alright.


	11. Chapter 11

The house smelled of coffee, when I woke up.

And while this was a pleasant smell, it was also an expensive smell. And I had none in the house.

Slightly alarmed, I went downstairs to check… and found Ann-Mary staring into the kitchen.

“What is it?”, I asked, not reassured by the frown she displayed.

She snapped out of the trance of watching and turned to me, straightening her clothes: “Ah, good morning, lady Jibril. I… was supervising your guest, as you ordered, it is simply that he is… odd”

I walked up to the entrance and looked in, discovering… a man, brushing an uncomfortable looking raccoon. With three pots on the stove and a lively fire going under it.

“What…?”, I frowned at the scene.

“Well… he showed up around four thirty… made a small fire and started cooking water… and threw potatoes in, told us not to touch anything, but look if the potatoes are soft in half an hour, then went somewhere and when he came back, he had a wet, shivering raccoon wrapped in towels under his coat, and put it in front of the fire”, she stared at the raccoon, only a little bit trying to escape, but mostly just… laying there, getting brushed and drying.

“And then made milk warm and put eggs and sausages in pans and said you would soon join. And I think that is coffee, too”, she made a bit of a face, somewhat confused, “He must have brought it with him, we didn’t have any anymore”, so that confirmed that little tidbit of information.

“Thank you, Ann-Mary, I’ll supervise him now”, she bowed to me. And left.

I… was left with a man brushing a raccoon.

“Good… morning, Mr Ruthven”, I stepped into the kitchen, frown in place.

“Aaah, good morning, miss Jibril! Do you want a cup of coffee?”, he said, still moving the brush. The raccoon looks especially put upon, now. Almost suffering.

“… it… would be a pleasure, with a dash of milk, please”, it was a rare treat, after all, but still: “Is… there any particular reason you are… brushing a raccoon in the middle of the kitchen?”

He stood to pour the cup of coffee, the critter still just… stood there. Not running away. Probably not suffering as much as it’s weeping noises suggested?

I’m not sure. It stood there, very poofy, and yawned.

I interrupted my frowny observation to accept the coffee.

“Thank you”, I nodded at him.

“To finally answer your question: Well, the critter has been fed now… it might stay close. Your daughter seems to be fond of it. I wouldn’t want her to get lice. As you can see… it might have been fed before, it’s rather docile”, at that, the raccoon looked at him.

Well, what can you do, I shrugged and said: “I… guess that’s alright? … do you always travel with coffee?”, I took a sip. Still bitter, still hot, burning down my throat.

“Ah, I like a fresh cup in the morning, so… yes, actually”, he sat back down on the floor, continuing to brush the critter. It actually settled on his lap. It was a dramatic animal.

“I’m sure Matia will be here, soon”, because the breakfast was ready, I was sure.

“Mmmmh, she’s in the bath, doing her morning-washes. At least she called it that? I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Apparently woke up from the smells?”, he shrugged, “Can’t blame her. Promised her she can choose her own sausage, if she does it all orderly and leaves the wet raccoon alone for now. Gave it another raw piece, too”

He ruffled the raccoon’s head. Was he… a raccoon whisperer or something?

I shook my head, sitting down at the table: “So… the guest serves his host?”, I joked.

“I guessed so, for the privilege to use the kitchen?“, he brought over plates and the first batch of food, after washing his hands.

Soon enough, Matia came and ruffled the raccoon’s hair – a patient beast, apparently -, Mazin made her wash her hands – a new trend, but I guessed it wouldn’t hurt – and then we sat on the table, Matia with her priced, overly big sausage and some egg and the adults nursed their coffee.

Soon, it once again became apparent why this was a bad idea and food got added to the angry mix. It helped.

It was a strangely… domestic breakfast. And Matia actually talked to our guest, even asked him questions – he told her of his lonely mansion. She offered to visit. He laughed and told her we would see what her mom had to say. And her new friend. Which brought the attention back to the raccoon and away from his life again.

That happened a lot.

But well, who could blame him, he simply wanted to take his books and go, after all.

It was a strange morning. So many unexpected smiles.

I sipped my coffee. The burn was grounding.


	12. Chapter 12

After breakfast, we relocated to the library.

Matia stayed indoors for now, the raccoon seemed to be peaceful and enjoyed to be pet. Maybe it had been someone else’s pet before. She will be busy. And if raccoon-petting gets too boring, she will come up anyway.

My library… was full of barrels.

I hadn’t looked at it yesterday anymore and seeing it now, it… was a little unsettling.

“This… will take some time, won’t it?”, I frowned at them. Wine barrels have about the same size.

“I do suppose so!”, my guest’s voice came from behind me.

When I turned and saw him with a crowbar in his hand, weighing it in his hands, I took a step back and gritted my teeth. There were barrels around me and I was alone.

Just for a moment, I believed I made a terrible mistake.

After all, I did not actually know this person and-

He stopped in his tracks and blinked, then he said: “O-oh! I am terribly sorry. I asked the Jeannie for the crowbar. The barrels need to be opened somehow. I meant no fright to happen”, he still waved the thing around, though.

I frowned.

When he finally caught on, he put the piece of metal on one of the barrels: “I apologize, Ms. Jibril”, and stepped back.

That… well.

I sighed: “It’s… alright, Mr. Ruthven. You…. live alone”, because it would be scary for any woman without someone around.

I grabbed the crowbar and pulled it off to open the barrel.

Except… one hand was not exactly enough. I had to use two.

He rolled the barrel over to let me have proper leverage.

It worked well, if a bit clunky.

We now had the metal ring off and the lid could be taken off.

Inside, we found – as predicted – books.

It really was filled to the brim.

As tempting as covering the floor with books was, we had to keep their instability in mind and so, they got taken out one by one.

Right from the start, I counted three bibles.

But we also got Pinocchio… and Krakatoa. Fantastical literature in our barrels, I couldn’t believe it.

Maybe the book sellers did keep the best ones to themselves.

Or simply didn’t sell them to me.

A depressing thought.

“Thus spoke Zarathustra”, the guest suddenly said, looking entirely too amused.

“Mh?”, I blinked, abandoning my thoughts.

“Nietzsche! He made a new book. They are all very… ah… existential”, he snickered.

“Ah… I see?”, I frowned.

“He declared that god is dead – or at least insinuated the same. It was a bit of a scandal”, he chuckled.

I… was a bit scandalised myself: “That… is blasphemy”, I shook my head, really.

He nodded: “Oh yes, yes, it very much is. A protest and a hymn to… sanity, I suppose?”

This sounded like nonsense: “This sounds very… modern”

He opened the book, thumbing through some pages, still grinning, he said: “Well, it is. It has the radical idea that people should enjoy life. And says people are much stronger than they think. It’s a call to think instead of simply believing everything”, he smiled, closing it again, “With your style of life? I do think you might like it. Keep an open mind, though, it’s… not for everyone”

He shoved the book over to me and I took it: “Thank you… I suppose?”

Meanwhile, I worried if it was illegal to own such blasphemous works.

“I would like it for myself, really, but… I think it’s better in your hands. For now”, he slanted his head, “There is another market… next month. Maybe I could come back, then. We could see what you think of it?”

He looked almost hopeful. It would mean to agree to another meeting. And over such a thing, too.

I took a deep breath: “… only because Matia seems to like you”

At that, he showed his widest grin yet.

The canines looked… big.

Anyway.

“If it makes up for my charming personality, sure!”, he grabbed the next book: Sophokles.

This, once again made me frown slightly. He had been mostly polite, after all.

But fine. It was a date.

And for now, there was a lot of literature to sort.

350 books didn’t get distributed properly on their own.


	13. Chapter 13

Mister Ruthven didn’t stay long after we had sorted everything out. He took only twenty seven books with him, mostly doubles, too. The rest I should ‘sell at my leisure’. He thanked me.

He must live truly far off, not to know the value of money. Well, it didn’t really matter: He left, on horseback. Even leaving most of the sausages.

He was truly, an odd, eccentric, slightly irritating man.

Matia liked him, for some odd reason. Maybe because he seemed to be a raccoon whisperer. It certainly listened to him better than to Matia or me. And we usually gave it more food, so that was… odd.

What irked me somewhat was his way of… saying everything that came to his mind. That Matia seems a bit lonely. That my choice of life was certainly different from usual. That there weren’t many men working for me. That I seemed to prefer vegetables over meat. That Matia was a little spoiled.

None of this was exactly… offensive. Those were simply observations spoken out loud. But polite people would keep them to themselves.

Now I just sat here, those remarks at the back of my mind and wanting to call him an ignorant bastard without being able to. Since he had shown nothing but kindness otherwise.

I mulled the thoughts over in my head when something wet nudged my elbow.

When I looked, it turned out to be a nose. Accompanied by two big yellow eyes. Oh. So the fox was back. And waited, waving tail from side to side.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. And lifted my arms, leaving my lap open for invasion.

The opportunity was promptly taken. And a warm pillow of fluff rolled itself into a ball. His fur was as soft as it usually was. And grey-ish.

“… I’m gonna call you Mazin now”, he had the same eyes and hair. So it was justified. Completely.

The foxes ears flicked. And then he looked up, all weird-squinty, so I said: “If you look at me like that, the name fits even better”, I petted his head, “You’re just as annoying, too”

After all, I never officially allowed him to get into the house. It just kind of… happened. And now it was autumn and he made a good heater for Matia.

The fox even made a slightly whiney noise, then. Maybe I had moved my leg too much.

“MATIA! Look who’s back!”, I called out while I continued to pet the newly baptisted fox.

She then looked up from the rolled up raccoon and stared, eyes growing wider, she said: “KIFODO!”

To her credit, she did give the raccoon a few more pets and seemed to whisper something to it before she ran over to me…. And squeezed the unhappy-looking fox.

It didn’t make any moves to bite her, so…. I assumed it was alright.

After being released, he still climbed back on my lap. Tired fox.

Well… I was glad for the pillow for now… and my lovely daughter still had another animal companion rolling in the dirt.


	14. Chapter 14

I actually read the book. From start to finish.

This was a truly staggering fact, since I usually did not read that much. Especially not in one month.

But the raccoon did an astoundingly good job at keeping Matia busy.

It was one third of her height, but it was a good, warm, firm pillow and companion.

He actually seemed to be quite considerate. And with it’s tiny, tiny hands, he was even a better companion than Mazin-fox. He even flipped the page for Matia to read. And looked like it understands everything when she read to him, even clapping - somewhat clapping - after she is done.

It gave her more fun in reading, so that was good.

Really, just watching the raccoon bring a book to Matia and her opening it carefully and reading to me was… adorable. Really adorable. And straight after, they rolled over the floor.

And sometimes Mazin-fox joined them, always the leader, bringing them to some place or another. Wherever he brought them, Matia came back with big eyes and chattered about fairies.

Or at least sparkly things.

But most of them time Mazin-fox kept me from doing things. Because he jumped on my lap and basically refused to move whenever I sat down with a book.

One wouldn’t believe how much more comfortable reading was with a soft pillow on my lap. I almost forgot the time, the fox sometimes nudging me for scritches, but otherwise… I got to experience this… book.

It really was not for everyone. I did not see my mind becoming a camel… or a lion… or even a child. It was explained later on, but… a teacher who was unhappy with his teaching? He had a point about women being better hosts than men. And men being stronger, which almost never is a good thing.

It really was not a good book by any means, reading that women are only meant to give birth certainly did make me frown.

But a lot of thoughts simply… stuck with me after reading it.

The main character was mostly a pretentious bastard who hated everyone. And was still sought out for advice. Nietzsche probably wrote about himself.

In the end, I could say what I wanted about the book, it did make me mutter and think. Mostly angry thoughts about the stupid person who wrote it.

The theme of enjoying life didn’t even… really come up. I might have tugged my foxes fur a little harder than necessary when reading it.

But now here I was, a little smarter than before. Not sure if I looked forward to another meeting… but certainly glad to be rid of the book now.

Hmph.

But maybe we would not even meet.

I went through my business the usual way. The market waited for no one. And maybe I was lucky enough not to meet him at all.


	15. Chapter 15

I… was not lucky.

Even unusually unlucky.

He caught me almost immediately. At the meat stand, eyeing the sausages. They smelled heavenly. And the last was now…. Almost three weeks ago.

Matia needed to grow, after all.

Mr. Ruthven showed up next to me and said: “One of everything, please”, and smiled.

After staring for a few moments, he added: “Two more Knackwurst, please…”

I sideeyed him the whole time. When he got what he had ordered (his arms were full now), he turned to me: “You want one, miss Jibril?”

I looked over to him and raised a brow. He really had too much money.

And so, I said: “You really have too much money”

He tilted his head, slightly, then nodded: “… possibly. This here is the only time I’m spending it, after all. So?”

In my mind’s eye, I suddenly saw heaps of treasures that he just used…. to sit on. Maybe very heavy umbrellas. Out there in the middle of nowhere. Probably surrounded by something that wanted to eat all these sausages.

“… it would be impolite to decline, would it not?”, I took the sausage from him.

His smile widened: “Really? Would it be impolite to decline other things as well?”

A frown started to form when I heard that, but he followed with: “You can tell me all about the book over lunch. I’m sure your servants can take care of the groceries for now?”

“We just got lunch”, I gestured at the meat in my hand.

“What? No! If I’m already in the city, I have to sample one of the restaurants at the very least. Will you do me the honour to accompany me?”

I squinted at the outstretched hand and said: “… fine. But just so I can tell you how terrible your book choices are”

I called a servant over and told her she should get the usual vegetables. Brienne is good at grabbing the freshest produce, so that would likely be fine.

When we walked towards the nearest tavern, I started: “The person who wrote this really hates women. And that is just the start!”

Mr Ruthven smiled at me. Hrmph.


	16. Chapter 16

It was ridiculous.

No matter how I told him how little I thought of his choice in books, his smile simply continued growing – slowly – and he nodded.

“Valid points, lady Jibril”, he would say.

“Really? Because you said this philosopher had good points, that he was worth reading and you like reading him!”, I frowned

“Told you to keep an open mind, too, didn’t I?”, he looked almost apologetic.

“You did”, I frowned, “And I got confronted with ‘sickness is a weakness that only befalls the weak. This weakness needs to be overcome’, and good lord, a superhuman? Just… what did you make me read?!”

He did not seem phased much by this, relaxed as he was when he said: “It really is notfor everyone, then”

“Especially not for women. ‘Husbands always need a concubine, a woman can’t handle work and sex, they aren’t built for this!’, what was this person even thinking?!”

He made a bit of a face: “Really? He got this obvious this time around?”, he made a hurt noise, “May I invite you properly to lunch, then? To make up for it?”, he tilted his head.

And I let a puff of air out: “I already came, didn’t I?”

“Truuue, but you did not actually agree to me paying for your meal and… it’s the least I can do, isn’t it?”, he looked properly apologetic.

“It is”, I had wasted time on this!

“A done deal, it is”, he nodded, “And I vow to recommend better books in the future”

“Mh”, I raised a brow.

His slow smile was back: “You will look out for asshole writers a little more now, won’t you?”

“I found one first try, did I not?”, seriously.

“Touché”, he chuckled again.

And then continued to eat his goulash.

He was such a strange man. And had bought the complete set of barrels of books again. I thought about how Matia actually had talked with him. And seemed quite happy.

“… I suppose you could still come and sort out the books at my place again”, I huffed, blowing over my own portion.

He lit up, his grin turning into a lot less sleazy, actually sitting up properly: “That is a very generous offer, thank you very much!”

For the rest of the day, he was my Carrier of Groceries.

And bought absolutely everything that he was remotely interested in.

Even honey.

And cinnamon.

Asked questions the whole time.

When he got his hands on rice he bought ten kilograms.

I didn’t even really know what to do with all these grains!

But fine, fine.

In the end, we were done and drove home.

Matia had a raccoon on her lap and read for him. She had really improved in the last four weeks.

This time, I could show Mr. Ruthven around myself. He was impressed by the pigeons, petted a chicken – and got pecked for his efforts.

He just laughed it off, scratching the back of his head.

Dinner was spend with a begging raccoon – who brought Matia to bed on his own and curled up next to her.

Mazin just shook his head: “I didn’t expect the critter to actually stay”

“Well, you did wash it”, I said while washing some dishes myself.

He grabbed a towel and started drying them: “That I did…”

And now, Matia and critter were gone. And we weren’t too tired (even if the carriage ride was still used for a nap). I supposed some questioning of my guest was in order.


	17. Chapter 17

Mister Ruthven was… something, alright.

After I had washed the dishes, he said: “Will you do me a favour?”

And, as he still paid five pounds for staying the night, I replied, whle draining the water from the sink: “I suppose?”

“Good, then sit down and rest, you deserve the rest”, and smiled at me, a little lop-sided.

There was not much else I could do except… following his request, with a token protest: “This is… highly unusual”

“As is a raccoon that brings your daughter to bed. Now put your legs up, please, it’s been a long day”, he shook his head and gestured at the chair.

Naturally, he put away everything that was taken out of the shelves before back where it belonged. He got the dishes in the right places, folded the table cloth properly, cleaned up on the table…

And all the while talked about the ornaments on the plates or where he had seen this style of shelf, cutlery or anything.

“Do you… ever shut up”, I had to say, at one point, grinning at him.

“Aaah, I do apologise. I don’t get to talk much, usually”, he looked a little bashful, if not by much.

“So, you really do live all alone on top of a mountain? Only the dogs to talk to?”, interrogating him was the goal, after all.

He dusted the shelfs now and said: “It’s quite scenic, really. Not a soul for miles upon miles, but yes, it does contribute to constant blabbering”

“And an endless amount of themes to blabber on about?”

He turned towards me, leaning against the counter: “Ah… well… I do have an extensive library, but most books are designed to wax poetry over one such as yourself”, he bowed a little bit, then shrugged, “I sometimes like to enjoy without words, though”, and looked directly at me.

…

Was… was this man seriously flirting with me?


	18. Chapter 18

Or trying to flirt. I mean… he did stumble over words and didn’t always make sense with his answers, the mountain dweller.

So I said: “Well, let’s stay with words for a while, though, shall we?”

“Oh! Well, you are the most beautiful woman I saw on the whole market, and radiate pride and happiness whenever you are around your daughter, which is all the more right and admirable for the awful way the townspeople treat you, and I’ve only seen it a little. You’re a very strong lady, which enjoy. It’s merely a shame the radiance disappears when your little gift of a daughter isn’t there”, and he nodded, having looked at me this whole time.

Apparently, living in the mountains reduced your ability to feel shame.

I was the slightest bit speechless.

“A blush also suits you very well, it compliments your eyes”, he tilted his head slightly, “At least I think so, it makes the grey shine”

Before he continued with this, I said: “Alright, I… heard you. I… should get to know you a little bit better, now that we have time and you’re actually sleeping in my house”

“Well, I do pay rent”, he pointed at me, “And it’s such a lovely place. With such lovely people inside”, he said, looking at me again.

Huh.

“Mhmh, well, still, for now I just know that you own dogs, like to read and live on a mountain”, I pointed back, because… he was getting ridiculous.

And then he laughed. Now I also knew that he looks like he was laughing a lot. And that his eyes were laughing with him. Since I paid attention. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“Well, that is already a little more than most. I… also appreciate beauty and good company, if you must know. But I think I already confirmed that much”, he shrugged.

And I raised a brow, huffing: “That’s not what I-“

“Oh! I also don’t care much for thunderstorms, it’s a bit unsettling, so far away from people”, he piped up.

I looked at him until he was silent when I said: “What I did want to know is where all this money you throw around comes from. It’s unusual and for all I know you could be a highway robber”

“Oh?”, he grinned, “Do I look rogue-ishly handsome?”, he wriggled his brows, which…

“… maybe a little”, I admitted.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, beautiful”, and managed to look smug. At being called a highwayman.

A laugh bubbled up from my chest and I gave in, shaking my head: “Ahaha. I… you really have no shame, do you?”

He chuckled as well and lazily opened his eyes to look at me, attention all on me, and said: “Honesty is more important. And so… I might have to answer, don’t I? I inherited the house from the people that pretty much raised me the British way. They did mostly forgive me for turning out the way I did”, he winked again. And… yes, maybe he needed a bit of forgiveness, there.

He continued: “The money? Well, of course there was some attached to the house. And then some more came with my skills. It never hurt to barter and have friends, either. So, there’s that. The only robbery I ever did was theft of food. I would have been tempted by your cooking, certainly”

Mh. If you were rich already, you didn’t worry too much about money. Admittedly, I was the same, in some ways. I certainly worried less than most people: “So you just throw a month’s pay around because you got it?”

He shrugged: “I don’t get much opportunity for spending it. And I got a discount from Alexander this time around. Plus the information that a few bachelorettes are looking in the city. It’s information, not that I was interested in any news on that front”, and he looked at me again.

One could say he made his intentions clear…


	19. Chapter 19

“He did bring another load of barrels. He doesn’t always do, though. I hope you know that?”, it was a fair warning. I was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of it, “So chances are you won’t find what you are looking for if you came next month as well”

He chuckled again, smirked and said: “But I definitely will find something I am looking for if I came back”

I leaned forward on the table: “And what, pray tell, might that be, mister Ruthven?”

“Ah, admittedly, it’s more a who than a what, so maybe I cheated there…”, at least he backpedalled a little bit.

“I see. I hope they are good company then”

“Oh, the best, I assure you”, he nodded happily.

“Just as smooth a talker as you are, then?”, I smiled sweetly.

“At least as much”, his eyes crinkled again, something between pleased and excited. Suited him. He also came closer, leaning on the other side of the table.

“Well, enlighten me, are they from the same place you are from?”, I said, still trying to figure out one thing or another about him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t think so, they don’t exactly look Japanese”, he scritched his nose.

He… didn’t look Japanese either. North African, maybe? I frowned a little and asked: ”So that’s where you are from? It’s a little hard to believe”

It earned me another embarrassed chuckle: “Well. Actually, I don’t know where my parents were from, originally. But I did grow up in Japan. Not that much of that upbringing stuck, either. One day we just… kind of shipped our way towards Britain, I was still pretty young then”

“Must have been quite a journey”, I nudged.

“Aaah… well… it was. A journey. A long one. Weather isn’t always stable on long journeys”, he ooked a little away, there.

“… so that’s where your fear of thunderstorms comes from?”

He winced a little: “I would say so. Almost drowned. Tickled in my toes, too… It’s not great, really”, but then turned fully towards me, showed a smile that only started to be genuine and grasped my hand: “I bet the company of a lovely lady would make everything a lot easier”

He looked uneasy, still. Bad memories, apparently. So, I shrugged, deciding to humour him: “Then we should be grateful thunderstorms are rare. But, I promise, if there is one while you are here, I’ll keep you company”, and, to top it off, clasped his upper hand in mine, looking at him intently.

That did seem to give him his confidence back, at least the spark in is eye was back.


	20. Chapter 20

He seemed to be quite confident in holding my hand.   
Or at least he didn’t exactly let go and said: “… then I should almost hope for one, mh?”  
There was a wink. An actual, honest to goodness wink.  
He really was flirting with me.

And, worse: I somewhat liked it.   
“If it helps to defeat your greatest fears, it might be a good thing. To bridge the waiting time until the storm starts, how about you tell me some about your home country?”  
Here I pulled back my hand, in favour of leaning my chin on it - still a little closer than before, space-wise. I hoped I followed the proper flirting-rules, there. It’s been quite some time.   
“Oooh my home,” he chuckled, “Like I said, it’s been some time, and I was pretty small. So… not everything might be accurate anymore, do you still want to hear?”  
I shrugged: “I didn’t ever travel this far. And it’s part of your history, no? One day I might see for myself, until then… paint me a picture,” let the other know you are interested, actually do react to the fishing, it’s in the rules.   
“Ah. Well then,” he scratched the back of his neck ad leaned a bit back, “Where do I start?”  
Apparently, he wanted to take this question serious.  
“The biggest difference is probably… the food. No one here eats rotten beans for breakfast,” he looked like he was haunted.  
“… rotten… beans…?,” this sounded… strange?  
“It’s about as bad as you currently imagine,” he shook he head, “Smells like it, too. It’s Japan’s cooked boar”  
“… what’s wrong with cooked boar?,” I said, very decidedly curious and innocent.  
He narrowed his eyes, slightly: “… … … you know… I almost believed that”  
“At least it’s not *rotten*,” we got cheese for that. But… I avoided that as well, “But that’s not appealing at all, you don’t recommend a visit?”  
“Not for good Christians I don’t, no,” he shook his head with a chuckle.  
“Oh? Why’s that?,” I was not going to subscribe to a ‘God is Dead’-philosophy and I did go to church every Sunday, but… well… I might have had some thoughts.  
“Because they were mostly hunted when I was visiting last,” he laughed.  
“…oh,” that… was different.  
“I mean, you don’t have to wear your religion on your sleeve, either. But it’s difficult around here, so… it might not be an option,” a slightly apologetic grin accompanied this.  
“… so… what do you- did you believe in?,” because that was some time ago, right?  
“Spirits!”   
“What… like fae?,” we had those. In the old times.  
“Aaaah, almost, yes, but more… nature spirits? Animal spirits. Mostly. Foxes get very old and powerful, raccoons - different from the ones living here - are up to mischief and are shapeshifters, crows watch over the afterlife, dragons are everywhere, tigers watch over the living… ad take sacrifices. And of course there are the ghosts of dead people. Just about everywhere. And the forest-spirits… oh, all the forest spirits,” he chuckled again.  
“… it… seems crowded?,” I frowned, we had enough to do with only one god.  
“They are easier to deal with than yours. They actually answer when asked. For better or worse, the funny thing is, that you can find some here, as well,” here he looked worried.  
“… do you actually believe that?,” because it was a little strange.  
Another smile-y shrug: “It’s just something you don’t get rid of. Like the pictures of swamped rice fields… or the many, many cherry trees that let their blossoms fall. Of course, once again attached to some spirits. They were very good stories, when I was small”  
“I suppose it’s like the stories of Titania and Oberon?,” that I could somehow, somewhat relate to.  
“Shakespeare did make those popular again, didn’t he?,” another laugh.  
We both looked over to the door at the same time.  
“Oh boy! My foreign spirit has arrived!,” he said with theatrical flourish and stood up to walk over to the raccoon, picking it up.  
I smirked at him: “Didn’t you say Japan had different raccoons?”  
“Ah, we ex-japanese can’t be picky. Now I have to deal with those little rascals,” he petted his fur, holding him secure and comfortable, “Can I borrow another cookie?”  
“Is that one of those 'offerings’?,” I smiled, it wasn’t serious enough to not joke about it.  
“Something along the lines. I mean… have you ever seen a raccoon actually eat cookies?”  
“Not often, no…”  
“See? It must be a spirit,” he had found the cookie jar, “So, can I?”  
“Might also be we were always fast enough to take them away. But sure. Grab one,” I shook my head.

“But he i well-behaved, isn’t he? You did apparently keep him for the whole month,” he slanted his head.

“Yeah, Matia likes him, it’s a good critter,” I said.

“Well, even better, then. I suppose he wanted to tell us it’s time to go to bed, though. Tomorrow is another day and all… work for you… travel for me,” he did not look happy. 

But… it was none of my business: “Well, then I bid you good night. It… has been a nice evening”

“Likewise, lady Jibril. We’ll see each other tomorrow,” and he disappeared with the raccoon in tow.

What a strange man.


	21. Chapter 21

There was a very distinct lack of vegetables in this pan.   
And there was some jerky being chewed on, already.   
I gave it a little disapproving frown: “… that’s not how healthy food looks, mister Ruthven”  
Two big eyes moved from the frying eggs to me. He blinked once. And then bit off another piece of jerky, fox-like grin in place.   
After he swallowed, he said: “Good morning, miss Jibril”  
“Good morning to you, too,” right. The meat-smell had been strong enough to let me forget my manners. For a moment.

 

I… really would like to have it more often. It’s just so expensive.   
Maybe I could understand his gleeful meat-munching… at least a little bit. And hey, it looked like he made three batches of breakfast.   
And, whenever our resident raccoon was done - just done - and stopped running from Matia, he got a piece of broccoli. Or a proper pet. All friendly and considerate.   
It was nice, seeing it. Looked almost like it was normal. Matia really had taken a liking to both of these newcomers.   
I felt just the tiniest bit of compassion with the critter. My lovely daughter had a tendency to squeeze. And he looked rather distressed.   
Again, the food helped.   
Breakfast was a round of giggles and Matia talking us about the HUGE BUG she found this morning. It was SO HUGE, really, the whole room was dark!  
“Huuuuuge wings, had it?,” Mazin put in.  
“Mhmmmmmh! All huge and grey and flappy!!!,” she really was all excited.  
“Mhmmmmh, moths are pretty sweet!,” he had a glint in his eyes. It was ridiculous.  
But I had to butt in: “Not *too* sweet, mind you… we don’t want them in the house… they nom away on your clothes”  
“But they are so niiiice!,” she looked put out. Please, moths are… something else really…  
I had already taken a breath to undo, when he said: “Yeah, they are nice to hunt! Big targets… very easy to learn,” he nodded confidently.   
And with a horrified look, Matia went behind me, whining: “You can’t do thaaaaaat!”   
“If they are inside… I can maybe contain myself, but our ‘coon here? I don’t think he’ll behave.” He shook his head sadly.  
The raccoon seemed to look offended, and made a tiny screech-y noise.   
Matia took it for agreement: “Mommy, mommy, we have to protect the moths!,” she pulled on my dress.  
And I petted her head: “Ssssh, don’t worry, we’ll keep the moths safe and sound outside. You can watch them through the window!”  
She nodded as earnest as only a child could. It was adorable.   
But we were done. So I called the breakfast off: “Maybe one tries to get into the library, they do like paper! And we do have to look through the books”  
…  
I had never seen this raccoon run so fast. There was a scuffling sound and then it basically shot up the stairs.  
I blinked after it. And Matia ran, yelling: “Waaait, you can’t even open the doooooor!”  
And I giggled.   
“Alright, I’ll clean up, you make sure no one eats the books? Matia will not like to see me in the next half hour,” he snickered.   
He did… kind of sacrifice himself there, din’t he?  
“Thank you”, he nodded and waved, taking care of the dishes while I walked upstairs. It was strange how easily he fit in.


	22. Chapter 22

When I came into the library, there was a raccoon, sniffling through the books… and my daughter looking at some pictures.   
I walked over to make sure it was not some kind of anatomy-book. And was relieved to see that it was… ‘only’ an illustrated fairy tale book.   
Of course it was German and therefore no one should look too closely at it, but… well… it was better than correct guts.   
“Hey mommy! Coony brought me a book!,” she pointed at it, “I like it!”   
Which was… one of the weirder things to hear from your daughter, but hey… at least the raccoon did not bring… horrifying things. 

 

I looked to the raccoon and how it… actually seemed to sort the books. Grabs them with his tiny raccoon-hands… drags them to the side… runs back (faster than I’ve ever seen the raccoon run before), looks at the next book and drags it off again.   
“You okay?,” I raised my voice a little, to get his attention.  
He stopped dead in his tracks. His ears twitched. He started to clean his whiskers and face. And then rolled up on Matia’s back. Apparently sleeping.  
I was… a little speechless. And stared.   
Then I asked Matia: “Does he… does he do that often?,” my tone was almost as disbelieving as I guessed it should be.   
Matia turned and petted the rolled up fluff: “Sometimes, sure!”  
I frowned: “Uh… no I mean… does it… carry books around?”  
And my daughter looked up with those doe-eyes of hers and says: “Sometimes, sure,“ in an exasperated, kid-tone of voice that just wants to read her book that her raccoon picked especially for her. Apparently.   
That… was probably all I could do about that, wasn’t it?  
With a frown… I settled down and looked at the book-stacks that had formed in the short two minutes that it had taken for me to come up.   
At least they didn’t make much sense.

There was poetry and languages mixed up… and a biology book laid atop Nietzsche (again, that guy…)  
So… maybe the books smelled different.   
When I sniffed at them, they didn’t smell different at all. But one book full of recipes laid there, all alone, so maybe there was something to the theory.   
I wouldn’t know.   
I might have to keep more of an eye on the little bear. It’s… just weird. Weird is alright. Right?  
… what could I do about it, after all.   
I reached over and petted it’s fur. It purred. And stretched a bit. Normal raccoon, flopping on it’s side and down from Matia’s back, wriggling it’s legs in the air before it got back in a horizontal position (it took several tries).  
It earned some more pets with that action.   
Then it curled up against Matia and got auto-petted by her.   
That… that seemed to work just fine. It continued doing the raccoon-purr it did. Very well.

The books still needed sorting, so I applied myself to the task. Sooner or later, the dishes would be done and I would get company. And some help with this. Because there were enough doubles now already… and Mister Ruthven seems to have opened only two barrels in the early hours of the morning.  
He opened the third when he joined me, and really did get a slightly cold shoulder from Matia. Apparently, insulting bugs was a harder offence than expected.  
It’s not like much happened, anyway. We sorted by genre and author, sometimes commenting on either of them in an annoyed or delighted fashion - there were more fairy tales than last time, I was glad for that, at the very least.   
At one point, Matia and a reluctant raccoon left to play outside and - by the sound of it - raid the cookie jar.   
It was all fine and well until Mr. Ruthven opened the fourth barrel and I stood up to get a generous helping and he… caught me when I stood up too fast.   
"Easy, lady Jibril, easy,” he snuck behind me and held me around the waist, leaned back against him.  
The faint feeling went away. As it does. Almost immediately. I had just stumbled for a moment.   
When he didn’t make any movement to release me again… I cleared my throat.   
When he still didn’t move then, I sighed: “You… are aware it would be more effective to actually bring me back to the floor, yes?”  
“You want me to hold you on the floor?,” and his tone was… was… not exactly innocent.  
“… you,” there was no actually polite way to answer to that. Especially since I actually could have moved out of his arms by now, so I said: “No. No, I do not, but the fainting spell has worn off anyway. You can let go of me”  
“… can…. or should?,” there was a nose in my hair.  
“Will,” I frowned and removed the hands from my waist. And with a pout, he did let go.   
“As you wish,” he said and went to go sort more books.   
The rest of sorting went without any kind of incident.  
It worried me a little that I wasn’t that much against it. What a weird man.


	23. Chapter 23

In the afternoon, the raccoon came back. He moved… unexpectedly fast.   
And held it’S body perfectly still.   
It ran through the door and over the whole floor and ended up behind Mr. Ruthven, clinging to his leg.  
Matia followed about ten seconds later.   
The raccoon was already scrabbling at his ‘saviours’ upper arms, trying to hide.   
“Playing a little hard today, mh?,” he held the shivering, scrambling raccoon securely out of Matia’s grasp.

“But he ate ALL the cookies!,” she said. And Mister Ruthven and I both looked her up and down… and… had to come to the conclusion that 'all’ might be an overstatement, judging by the amount of crumbs all over her dress. She seemed rather agitated, though. And our guest looked over to me. I shrugged with a little eye-roll, I would let the lie slide. She had it hard enough, and dinner was some time ago, still.  
“And then didn’t want to play anymore, mh?,” he petted the raccoon anyway, tuged him away from his shoulder and placed him securely in his arms. The petting motion seemed to help,somewhat. the animal relaxed.  
Matia still looked unsure-unhappy-angry, which was an interesting mix, since her acting abilities - this time about the rightfulness of her anger - still needed to develop.  
“…yeah, but… the cookies and-,” she really seemed to fight with herself, there.   
“Ah. Well. How about I play with you for a while, then?,” he still petted the raccoon. Matia stared, “… if your mom is okay with it, of course”  
And now they both looked at me.  
… make that three, the raccoon looked as well.  
And I laughed and shook my head: “Sure. Sure you can. We’re almost done, after all. A break can’t be too bad”  
He smiled and held the raccoon up: “Will you take care of the culprit, then?”  
He looked terribly overeaten. And I could have sworn it looked like he tried to make big eyes at me.   
It threw me off a little, but… fine. Fine, I could deal with it.   
“He’ll be in coon custody,” I nodded at him, and said to Matia: “Be careful when playing outside”  
She nodded emphatically and ran off, saying she’ll get things.

Our guest looked a bit worried, looking after her: “… oh boy”  
I laughed. He got that much right.  
“So… you will watch our glorious… I suppose… match?,” some insecurity went well with the worry.  
I chuckled again: “No, I’ve got things to d-”  
“Oh, please. Do me the favour. I would feel bad if I was out there playing if the lady of the house is working…”  
I frowned, slightly, he just cut off the lady of the house.  
“… besides, I’m sure usually you would be playing with her. So you wouldn’t get much things done anyway.   
That… was not true. Matia had learned to play on her own and there was enough paperwork to be done at all times.   
The raccoon made little pained noises.   
I sighed: "Well, fine, if you would feel bad,” a break wouldn’t be the end of the world.   
And so he carried the animal down, waited until I sat and then… placed a very round, noticably heavier animal in my lap. It actually burped. And curled into a ball of fluff. So I apparently had to resign to petting it.   
The next three hours, though… felt a bit like amateur theatre.   
Three hours, mind you!  
Matia came running, 'swords’ in hands. The willow-branches made nice snapping-sounds, at least. She wanted to hand one to Mr. Ruthven when he grabbed her hand, yelling: “My lady! We must flee!” in the most theatrical fashion. Matia’s eyes got big and she grabbed his hand, running to the next tree. And placing her on the first branch.   
“You got your weapon, your majesty?!,” she showed him the branch and held it in her small little hand, tightly, “I will be back soon!”  
From some corner or pocket of his coat, he got a cape… with a hood. And he sneaked in the most obvious fashion to the lady in question.  
“I SEE YOU! EVILDOER!,” the apparently fearless noblewoman screamed. And wriggled with her feet.   
The next thing that happened was a surprisingly suspenseful branch-fight, from which our guest retreated, apparently deeply wounded on his shoulder.   
Matia made her way down and bravely stalked after him.   
A capeless Mazin re-appeared from the bushes, covered in leaves, talking about a kidnapper trying to steal her away. They challenged him, much to the 'enemies’ surprise (two roles at once were rather difficult, I guessed), and then went on to save people from evil, treetrunk-shaped tigers, treasures - apparently shiny bugs count as such - were discovered, new lands - a tiny 'island’ in the middle of our pond, Mazin carried her on his shoulders there - visited. Everything was done with much bravado and Matia even 'got injured’ as well, from time to time.   
Miraculous healings and recipes for bandages included.   
After the three hours, though, Matia actually was tired, when she brought the treasures home to the 'land of promised beasts’, and I hugged her.   
She fell asleep in my arms.   
Mr. Ruthven took off his hood, huffing: “Our brave adventurer finally got conquered, I see,” he looked a little worse for wear himself.  
“She certainly conquered the promised beast,” since the raccoon made slightly uncomfortable, squished noises. And of course I petted my daughters hair now, not his.  
“She was a worthy adversary,” he chuckled. And leaned against the wall.  
A truly, truly strange man.


	24. Chapter 24

IT STILL MISSING

Here goes sleeping and waking up and leaving then. ^^;


	25. Chapter 25

His aura was palpable for miles.   
It was the strangest feeling. An old, actually old Kitsune, claiming the land as his own, with so little opposing him. The ghosts around here were mostly human. And they were obsessed with their own. They claim ownership of the land, but they aren’t of the land, they aren’t one with it, so now… he was the only thing that inhabited the area. Properly. As a spirit.  
It made my fur stand.   
He didn’t even make it a show, a display of the claim. I wasn’t obvious, just a… deep-rooted connection between him and the land. There was no hostile feeling when I stepped on shore. Nothing hostile, only an inability to claim myself. The land did not wish to feed me. Protection was an option, but not… sustenance. When I tried a little harder, it gave. A little. But I felt pushing for more would be met with rigid objection and… I couldn’t afford that. 

I was tired. Tired and hungry. And while these slivers of energy helped, there were beings lesser than a Kitsune that would feed me good and well.   
… I simply had to… gain permission.   
A blow to anyone’s pride, but if that was how it was…  
The land reacted with avoidance when I ordered it to tell me where it’s master was. But responded almost immediately to friendliness.   
Annoyed, I followed the positive flow and already guessed he was one of those that had figured that true strength was in community. There were just… some of us that thought getting along with lower species was… the way to go. Which… no. No, it was not.   
I huffed and made my way through the forest. At least the wildlife was already accustomed to a presence like mine. They stayed away and let me pass, as it should be.   
It was irritating how much area he could cover with this kind of attitude.

At least he did not live in the ‘town’ that was there. The most bustling area was not emitting his energy, so I happily went around. The water in the river was at the very least drinkable, so that was an improvement towards my home country. A quick bath and preening was in order as well.   
And then, having done all that, I was still frustrated. I could not even bring a gift. It was a disgrace, all over. And all because of the humans.   
Growling, I walked the last few hundred meters to the clearing I suspected and saw…   
… a house.   
In a clearing.   
With humans. Two humans were walking around. And I was growling, already.   
Did… did he govern this area in captivity?! Did he… did he get himself caught and-  
“You are SO CUTE!,” I jump to the side, fur standing on every end, and I hiss. Hiss and make myself big and project myself and-  
…  
It was a child. A child was standing next to me. Hands clasped in front of her and a happy expression on her face.   
I hissed once again and then resorted to growling. Every human knew not to touch growling animals. Since that was what she saw right now, so.  
Tail swishing from side to side, aggressive stance in place, she should back off.   
Instead… she was still… was still smiling.   
“Mazin! There’s another fluffy one!,” she called over to the house.   
And, to my shock, to my absolute horror, this immense aura shifted to draw attention. To the girl. And subsequently to me.   
And it was humiliating.   
This was not a first impression I wanted to make, this was undignified.  
“Look, look!,” she said, and pointed at me, and I wanted to sink into the floor, but I could not back down now, not because of a lowly human and-  
There was a tongue on my face. There was a tongue on my face that dragged from my nose up to my eyes and then over my forehead, licking between my ears.  
And then a head knocked into mine.   
I was stunned.   
Completely stunned.   
My growling had stopped.   
There was a fox in front of me. A grey fox. Not even golden. Grey and calm and not at all bothered by the child and… and…  
'Relax, you’re a guest here. And you still have a lot to learn, little exiled Kitsune’   
Telepathy. Alright. Alright. So. So, at least he did not talk to the humans. That was good. At least that.  
'I am NOT exiled, I-’  
'Am on a journey to find a master. Sure. You are here. You are exiled.’ He nudged my side and I fell over. Then he proceeded to plant himself over my upper half and started licking my fur.  
And I… I could do nothing but lay there. And stare. Stare at the world in general. And be licked.  
“Awwww, mommyyyy, they are so cuuuuute,” the child exclaimed.  
His aura was meanwhile almost suffocating me.   
This… was not my day.


End file.
